A Rare Occurrence
by Denisovich
Summary: Harry is a shy, bullied boy. Hermione is a new kid in town with two younger brothers and a possibly gay father. Together they will face the world and the horrors of Captain D's. Non-magic. OOC. Rated T for safety
1. Chapter 1

**Hello one and all and welcome to 'A Rare Occurrence'. This is my first fanfiction so go easy on me. The characters are a little (okay alot) OOC. Harry is more nerdy and Hermione is more relaxed, but in the end I like how they turned out. So... on with the story!**

**Part Un**

**October 1-Sunday**

We all have a place that we dread, a place that we would like to avoid at all cost but never seem to be able to. It's what you would describe as the most depressing place on earth (i.e. hell). For me that place is Captain D's.

Reasons why

1) It's a major hang out for the elderly (AKA the really freaking old). It's true, the frail grandmothers and grandfathers of the world just love them some fish- especially here in the south. You can just look around and almost _feel _death creeping in. They're so crooked and bent that you can't help but to feel depressed and wasted away yourself. Almost as if they are sucking the life away from you to keep alive themselves.

2) It's also a major hang out for the morbidly obese. From just a glance you can tell they've already given up and are just waiting for the day that they finally choke on the wrong chicken bone. The morbidly obese are one of the quickest ways to feeling sympathy for humanity. Plus, they have a fierce rivalry with the old folks for most grumpiest that can get pretty out of hand sometimes.

3) My mother told us that she was divorcing my father in a Captain D's but I'll get to that later.

4) I. Hate. Fish.

I guess I mainly have a problem of imagining the lives of other people too often. It use to be a game I played with myself on long car trips but somewhere along the way their lives began to blend with mine and it became too sad. The lives and stories I imagined for the people made me feel sorry for them. And because I was pretending to be them, I also felt sorry for myself. Now I try to avoid situations where I easily empathize with those around me for the obvious reason of not wanting to depressed all the time. It's the universal law of self-preservation. Unfortunately, my family never seemed to notice this and still forces me to go to Captain D's, my personal hell, on a weekly basis.

Like most people I enjoy wallowing in the occasional sea of self-pity (I wouldn't say that I was better at it than any other teenager, but I'm fairly sure that if it was a paying job I'd be richer than Donald Trump), but it does get a bit repetitive after a while even for me.

My father and twin younger brothers were having some kind of in-depth argument about the engineering that went into a super building and I was doing my best to ignore the sad state of the people around me. Even to me a proud nerd on almost every level, conversations about construction seemed extremely boring. I had just finished my fries when I spotted my miracle- Harry Potter.

I'm sure that every high school in the world has at least one Harry Potter in its stocks. You know the one; the classic cliché genius who is to be either avoided like the plague or bullied like a pathetic street pup surrounded by emotionally disturbed teens. I can't say that I did either, or at least I didn't intentionally. To be honest he just wasn't someone I noticed all that often. Harry was in more than half of my classes in school and even worked in the same store as me during the summer, but I don't think I can remember saying one word to him other than "hey" before this fateful meeting.

Poor Harry was the embodiment of a tortured genius. He was too lanky and tall to blend in with the crowd like I tried, and succeed, to do. He had a terrible lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead and his dark hair had an Einstein madness to it. Other than the hair though, Harry didn't actually look all that nerdy and had very little acne whatsoever. It didn't matter though. He sat alone at lunch. He sat alone in class. He sat alone on the bus. He was a goddamn loner to the core. Harry also had the unfortunate luck of being born in a small hick town to even smaller minded parents, so his "book smarts" weren't exactly being praised at home. The school didn't have any way to accommodate him so he was stuck in the dumb classes with the rest of us. All in all, he was prime bully material for people like Draco Malfoy. Of course I didn't find any of that out until later. Like I said, I hadn't really notice Harry Potter. He was just another sad sack I tried to avoid lest I fall into his troubles like Alice into the rabbit hole.

On this day however, Harry was my salvation; my way out.

"Hey dad, I'm going to go over and sit with my friend." I said as I stood up from my seat. My dad seemed too caught up in his debate with my brothers to care at the moment and simply shooed his hand in acknowledgement. Before he could drag me back for "family time" I quickly turned away and stalked to Harry's table by the door. He sat alone as always.

The closer I got the shyer and stupider I felt. I considered keep walking right passed Harry and through the door, going far, far away from this place. I was forced to throw that idea out however when I remembered that I would have no way to get home since I couldn't drive and didn't even have a car. By the time I actually reached his table I felt completely and utterly dumb.

"Uh…Hey, can I sit here with you?" I asked with a voice gruff with nerves. I don't know why I was nervous though since I doubt he cared either way. Harry didn't answer. He appeared to be deep in thought and was chewing absent mindedly on a piece of fish while reading an extremely thick book. I gathered my courage and asked again; still no response. Again I tried, and again no luck. Put off, I tried one last time, this time while poking his shoulder harshly.

"Can I sit here?" I asked loudly. Harry jumped, obviously startled. He looked up at me puzzled and I realized that he hadn't been ignoring me but had honestly not notice my presence for being so wrapped up with his book. 'Crap' I thought, 'Now I've scared the poor boy for life.' All I had wanted was to get away from my family.

"Sorry, I just- I asked you a few times but you didn't notice. May sit here?"

"Sure." he said. He looked so wary that I almost wished I had a sign above my head saying 'Safe Zone'. I finally sat down and an awkward silence passed between us. I glanced out the window then back to Harry who hadn't gone back to his book like I thought he would.

"You don't have to stop reading if you don't want to. I did mean to interrupt you." I said, hoping he would go back to reading so the silence wouldn't be so awkward.

"Its fine, I was about to take a break anyway." He replied. He fell silent again after that and seemed to have no intention of making more conversation. 'Great there goes my way out of talking' I thought. After a long pause I started again.

"So you're Harry Potter, right?" I asked. It was a pretty stupid question because as I said before I was in most of his classes so of course knew his name. I was desperate to get rid of the silence though. A stupid conversation was better than none.

He nodded and cut through my bullshit by saying "And you're Hermione Granger." So, the lame introductions were made. The stage was set. And still we lapsed into silence.

To avoid his gaze, I surveyed the scene around me. An old woman with a bright yellow parka on hobbled by our table, with her daughter walking not far behind, ready to assist if needed. To the left, a group of young children mocked fat man eating alone. I could just barely make out grease and ketchup stains on his shirt. There was also an alert middle age woman sitting at the table to the right of ours, seemingly on the prowl for young men. She wore a track suit, and carefully scrutinized every man under 50 that walked through the door, searching for the perfect person to take home tonight. It didn't take her long to realize though that the Captain D's on Dessen road wasn't the best place to look for a suitable mate on a Sunday evening. On the far side of the restaurant there was an elderly couple sitting in a content silence; their hands were intertwined at the end of table. They reminded me a little of my own grandparents actually. Its old people like them that make me a little less terrified of growing old. I glanced back at Harry to realize he had decided not to look around the whole room as I had, but to rather stare at the people in the ordering line. A wise choice, as the fat man had just accidently dropped his last piece of fish on the floor, and looked ready to cry.

Many excruciatingly long minutes later I began to regret my decision. Surely, a dinner with family wouldn't have been this awful would it? Plus Harry had just enough of an abused puppy air about him to make me start to feel sorry for him. Yup, this was a terrible idea.

"So why did you come over here?" he asked, pulling me away from the fascinating view of the Captain D's parking lot I had settled on a few moments before. A group of stoners were hanging around on trash bins outside and some employer had just charged over, ordering them to leave. Harry's voice sounded strained as if he was just as desperate for conversation as I was.

"Oh, I wanted to get away from my family." I said.

Harry looked over to were my father and brothers sat. "Is that them?" he asked nodding to my family.

"Yeah."

"What's so bad about them?" he asked still sounding hesitant as if he expected me to start lashing out at him at any moment.

"They're not bad" I said, "They're just really caught up in a debate over the construction of the Sears building right now and I guess I just wanted some different conversation."

"Well I don't know if I'm really the best person for that." He said with a smirk, making fun of the earlier silence. I laughed, glad that we were finally getting somewhere. I was even gladder still to see that perhaps he wasn't the complete sad sack I thought he was.

"You seem to be doing fine now." I replied.

"We'll see."

"That we will. So…" I paused, frantically scanning my mind for a topic now that he seemed ready to talk. "What are you reading?" I finally asked. It seemed like a neutral enough question to start with.

"Dante's Divine Comedy."

"Oh I read part of that at my old school. It's pretty intense, huh?" I was happy for once that my old school had been so strict on Literature class. It hadn't helped at all at this new school, but maybe that wasn't the point. Maybe the class had been purposely created for just this type of situation. I had always been at the top my class. I took pleasure in it, but here intelligence didn't seem to matter. Harry was a prime example of that. 'At least we can talk about that for awhile until my family is ready to go' I thought.

"So far it is. You moved here at the end of last year from Detroit, right?" 'Or maybe not' I thought.

"Yup, so what do you think of Inferno?" I asked hoping he would drop the previous topic, but it seemed as if his natural curiosity wouldn't allow him to pass up learning something new.

"Why did you move? It must be a big change coming down South."

"My parent's got a divorce. I moved down with my father and brothers to be closer to my grandparents."

"Don't they usually reward custody to the mother in divorce cases?" he asked.

"Usually. I guess my mother didn't want to have us." I said, wishing he would stop asking questions. That is, until he asked a question I had never before considered.

"So why do you think they broke it off?" And honestly I had never thought of _why, _only that they had. The divorce had happened so abruptly that I didn't have time to question. It was just there all of the sudden like mushroom that popped up over night and I had to deal with it. It hadn't seemed to matter at the time what caused the divorce, just as it doesn't seem to matter what had caused the mushroom.

After a long pause I began to speak with my face half hidden behind my bushy hair, "My mother was pretty young when she got married and had me and the twins. She was right out of high school. I think- I think she just never got a chance to live you know? And then one day waiting at the bank or something it just stuck her all of a sudden that she felt cheated. That feeling grew and grew until she finally gave up. Gave up on marriage and gave up on us. She wanted to be free." My voice trailed off as I thought about it. It seemed so obvious now. As much time as I spent imagining what other people's lives were like I had never once thought about what my own mother felt like.

"I'm sorry I brought it up." Harry said looking remorseful as he studied my face carefully.

"It's fine." I said, "It still feels a little raw, but I'm glad you asked about it. I haven't talked to anyone about it in a long time. The subject is kind of avoided around the dinner table if you know what I mean."

"My family has a lot of those kinds of subject too." he said, looking at me right in the eyes, "Do you see her often? Your mom I mean."

"No, not since-" My statement was cut off by my dad calling for me, signaling it was time to go home. I looked at Harry sheepishly and we said our goodbyes.

While I had started out basically using Harry to get out of dinner with my family, I had ended up really enjoying his company. It was strange how much I had wanted to leave in the beginning, and then how sad I was to go in the end. I looked back at Harry who was once again intensely reading his book, and told myself that I would never ignore his presence again.

**Well, that's it for now. Let me know what you think! Because I'm new and clueless xD**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay so chapter 2 is here. I'm going to try to update at least every other day.**

**Thank you:**

**Pockets Full of Sunshine, dbzgtfan2004, Magical Faerie, and pawsrule for your reviews! they really made my day.**

**Warning- bit more cursing than in the last chapter. If that offends anyone, sorry. **

**October 2, Monday**

On the way home last night I had almost been looking forward to school. However, that feeling quickly dissipated when I remembered that I had presentation in French due the next day that I hadn't even started on. It's easy to say that I completely forgot about Harry and my pledge to myself. I was too busy being mad at myself for becoming so lack in my studies. I had always been at the top of my class at my old school and I had worked hard to get there. To be honest, I had been more than a little obsessed with my grades. But after my parent's divorce, little things like grades didn't seem to hold as much importance for me. Still, forgetting about a project was _not _acceptable.

I continued my unintentional ignorance until my last class of the day- French, my most enjoyable class by far. By the grace of some magical deity unknown I managed to actually finish my project on time, but it didn't matter because Professor Lupin pushed back the due date to a week later. In the end, I was stuck with a crappy project and some very hostile thoughts. It would have been so bad if I hadn't been made to carry the tri-board around all day, giving each of my "friends" a chance to steal it, open it up and see my pathetic attempt. I watched from my seat as one of the N's in Napoleon fall of and slip to the floor. 'Oh well.' I thought.

Half way through the period, Harry walked into class, hunched as always, as if he wasn't comfortable with his height. It's never good to be a walking, easy to spot signal for your antagonists to find you with.

"Hello Mr. Potter. Finally decide to show up to class I see." Professor Lupin said, halting a very in-depth (not) look at verbs to do so.

From this sentence alone you might assume that our teacher is a bit of a jerk, but that couldn't be farther from truth. I can only assume he was trying to be funny when he said that statement. You see, unlike most of the teachers at this school, Lupin actually seems to care for his students. He's old enough to be mature (as mature as the male gender can be), but still young enough to know that being a crab of a teacher will get you nowhere with students. Plus he's way better than the French teacher we had at the beginning of the year- at least he doesn't break down crying in the middle of class over his lost cat, Pam Pom. All in all Lupin is a pretty great teacher if you over look his fondness for changing due dates randomly. Oh, and his hideous ties that he claims his wife bought as a joke for Christmas one year (somehow I doubt that anyone could be that cruel to their partner without just cause).

Harry in response to Professor Lupin's statement said nothing, only slouched his shoulders even further down. He shuffled up to his front row desk and let his extremely heavy looking backpack fall to the floor as he sat.

"Chess tournament, right?" our teacher asked. 'Oh, so that's why I didn't notice him today. He wasn't here, duh' I thought. The annual chess tournament in question was always held in the state capital and was a big deal for most college preparatory schools.

This was not one of those schools. Here most students probably don't even know what chess was.

The scarred boy nodded his head once in return. He acted as if nothing important had occurred at the tournament and Lupin dropped the subject, never asking the obvious question 'How'd you do?' I could see from the corner of my eye a blue ribbon peeking out from his over crammed backpack.

I tried to catch his attention, and succeed in my efforts after only a few seconds. I gave him a small smile, which to my surprise he returned right away.

As Lupin slowly wrapped up his teaching I couldn't help but to stare at the clock in anticipation. All I wanted to do was go home, take a nice long bath (not shower), and try to redo some of my pitiful project. 'A fresh chocolate cookie sounds pretty good too…' I thought. My wishful musing was interrupted by a series of groans and complaints by the class. After a brief moment, I pieced together what had happened and realized that Lupin was passing out our test from last week. Now, usually I'm a good student, but a three page essay test in French about the Hundred Years War is enough to make even me feel stupid and overwhelmed. Dread swept through me as he continued his cycle around the room. Finally, the moment of trepidation came and Mr. Collins placed my paper in front of me face down.

An 91.

'Oh thank the lord.' I thought after I peeked at my grade. It was much, much better than I thought I would receive. How I managed that miraculous feat I would never know. It must have been an act of those fairies my grandmother was always talking about. Feeling relieved I look over to Harry who still had not flipped over his paper. Maybe he was nervous about his grade as well?

"Okay class. I'm done for the day. You can do whatever the heck you want as long as you're quite." Lupin said sitting down in his chair. This was a common occurrence as Professor Lupin can be pretty lazy sometimes. He had just begun fiddling with his computer when the class erupted in murmurs mainly involving the phrases 'so what you'd get' and 'damn I failed again'. I had just pulled out a book to read until the end of class (as I didn't have any good friends in this class to talk with), when I noticed Draco Malfoy stalking towards Harry.

Just like every school has a Harry Potter in its stocks so too every school has a Draco Malfoy to put him in his place. Truthfully, Malfoy can be replaced with any bully in America and no one would even notice. He is the classic troubled boy looking for affection with all the wrong tactics. He is not very intelligent, or at least pretends not to be, but still manages to scrap by every year with at least a low D in most classes. He's favorite game is torturing the weak and he probably steals candy from little kids on Halloween. As I said before, classic bully. Thankfully, Malfoy is just mean enough to override any sympathy I would have for him and his probably horrible home life, so I don't have to worry about feeling sorry for him all the time like I do with others. Anyway, when you see someone like Malfoy approaching someone like Harry you know right way that nothing good can be about to occur.

"So what you get on the test, Pot Head? I bet you failed just like the rest of us didn't you?" started Malfoy.

Without asking, he ripped Harry's paper from his desk. He looked at it in disgust, and more than a tiny bit of resentment.

"Oh another 100? Well isn't that a surprise?" he asked sarcastically and let the test paper float to the floor. Just as expected, Harry bent down for his paper which Malfoy quickly covered with his foot.

"Nope, not until you say please." he taunted. Wisely or unwisely, Harry didn't respond and sat back up in his chair, giving up on getting his test paper back for the time being.

"Aw, don't you want your precious hundred back to show mommy and daddy? Or is it that you just couldn't handle being so close to my dick without wanting to suck it?" that last sentence was whispered so that only Harry or someone listening very closely could hear. Without the obvious spite in his voice, the comments intent could have easily been a come on and not an attack on manhood. Most of his taunts are similar in that way. 'Perhaps Malfoy is hiding more than just bad breath' I thought, but then disregarded it as completely impossible. Guys like Malfoy love breasts far too much to be gay.

Again Harry remained silent, but slightly strained revealed his disgust. It was then that Malfoy apparently decided to up the taunting. This time though he hissed it into Harry's ear so that even I couldn't hear it. Forget the sticks and stones of yesteryear; Harry's face alone showed just how much words could hurt. It's the same with every bully, once they reach high school physical humiliation just isn't as effective as it once was so they are forced to get clever and use their new found English skills to do the real damage. As Harry's face became more and more distraught my rage grew to a height not reached since childhood. I couldn't just sit by and pretend to be someone anymore; I couldn't just feel sorry for someone; it wasn't enough; I had to help.

I drew myself up from my chair and as I did so my rage became something outside of myself. It became its own separate entity that drove me forward to Malfoy.

"Stop it." I said forcibly as I poked his shoulder, reminding me oddly of the day before when I had done almost the same with Harry.

"Oh, hey Granger, what exactly is it that you want me to stop?" he asked, looking not at all put out by my presence. In fact, he seemed rather pleased. At this I had to pause. My steam had run out after just the first round; how pathetic. I scrambled frantically to remember my purpose.

"Yeah?" he asked trying to prompt me, just as I finally remembered why I came over.

"You need to stop messing with him. He doesn't deserve your bullying you asshole." I said as strongly as I could. It wasn't near as impressive as my first go, but it would have to do.

"How 'bout you just stay out of it. This is between me and him- not you."

"I don't care who's it between; it's not right how you treat him."

"Look, he's just a-" Malfoy was interrupt by the bell signaling the end of the day. Not wanting to stay a minute in school that he didn't have to, Malfoy said a quick "Bye Granger, Bye dickhead" as he left out the door. I looked to Harry, feeling proud of my small accomplishment. I assumed he would be happy that I had helped but I couldn't have been more wrong.

"You shouldn't have done that. Now he'll just tease me more for having to have a girl stick up for me. It's not like I already have enough to deal with on a daily basis. Thanks a lot Hermione." and with that Harry walked out the door looking betrayed and resentful.

'So much for a relaxing afternoon…'

**Aw poor 'Mione...**

**Have any of you seen Deathly Hallows pt. 1 yet? And if so did you notice the HUGE amount of Harry/ Hermione shipping the director was doing?**

**For the entire dancing scene I was thinking "Are they going to makeout now? Ron's gonna be piiissed"**

**Anyway, please review and tell me what you thought of chapter 2!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi! Here's chapter 3 in which we finally get to officially meet Hermione's father and little brothers.**

**Birthday parties, rockin' violins, and imagined bears in tutu's are included.**

**Thank you Magical Faerie, and pawsrule for your reviews!**

**October 14, Saturday**

More than a week had passed since that incident and harry still wouldn't talk to me. And despite all my effort, I couldn't get the imagine out of my mind of him looking like the lion cub I had seen at the circus my father used to take me too every year; terrified and completely alone. It hadn't taken me long to realize that it wasn't really me that he was mad at, but rather himself for not sticking up to Malfoy. I figure somewhere inside himself, he realized that too, but still human nature a might force to be reckoned with.

And although he wouldn't speak to me, I kept my promise to notice him. I watched as he walked through the halls as a ghost, slinking by us all in hopes of never being seen. Throughout the week, I picked up on the little things that made Harry himself. Like his unfailing modesty; always keeping his test papers turned face down so no one would feel bad about their lower grade. Or his truly fascinating mind that shone through ever essay he wrote. It might sound a bit creepy (i.e. stalker-ish) to say that, but really it doesn't take much looking to know a person when you are willing to step outside of yourself for a moment. For the first time in my life, I could say that I truly cared for the fate of another person outside my family.

I also realized that Harry took every school activity with the utmost seriousness, even the stupid ones like movie watching in French class, which everyone knows is just an excuse to waste class time and sleep. On Wednesday, we watched a movie called "Le Petit Prince" or "The Little Prince". Anyone who has not seen it needs to go rent it now, because it is one of the trippiest movies I have ever seen. Before he pressed play, Professor Lupin had said "I warn you now, it is freakin' crazy". And how right he turned out to be. The movie was made in Claymation during the 70's and based off this children's book by some Frenchman that got stuck in the desert without any water. However, it also features some super bright colors that make it seem as if you're on an acid trip the entire time. The whole class besides Harry took it as a joke, including me. Most slept, some stared blankly at the screen, but the majority of the class was lost in a state of confusion repeating the phrase 'What. The. Hell' over and over. Harry however was completely absorbed by the movie and even took notes. Now that's dedication.

Homecoming had come and gone in the past week. As always, several dress-up days accompanied it, along with a not so preppy pep rally to round off the week on Friday. The days had passed with little major occurrence, until Nerd vs. Jock day on Thursday. On that day, Malfoy and his gang decide to dress up as nerds (hardly anyone came as a Jock because honestly, what's the fun in that?). I'll give you one guess as to who they stole inspiration from. If you said Harry Potter then give yourself a hardy pat on the back. If you said anything else then you fail at life, sorry. They went beyond messy hair and glassing and actually blew up a picture of Harry's face (where they got it I have no idea) and wore it like a mask. To make matters worse, Harry had come to school as a jock.

Picture this:

Harry walking down the halls in his oversized hand-me-down football jersey and helmet passing through a sea of clones made in his own image. At first he ignores it. Maybe he doesn't even realize the joke. Then after awhile, it sinks in. He understands. He knows that they are all dress up as him- the ultimate nerd. He sees them mocking his laugh, his walk, his very being. And no teacher says a thing to stop it. He must reenact this walk four more times before school is mercifully and thankfully over.

I saw Harry draw a little more into himself every time he passed a clone that day and it killed me that he was too proud to let me help. It hadn't been just Malfoy and his gang to dress up like that either; it seemed the whole senior class was in on the joke. There where men Harry's and lady Harry's, Fat Harry's and skinny Harry's; they came in every shape and size the school had to offer. It was a fit of direst cruelty.

I don't know how he had managed to make it through the day, but it proved that he was way stronger than I ever thought him to be.

I have strong reason to believe that my father is homosexual.

Here's why:

He has a strong love for the color pink.

He knows about fashion more than any straight man I know.

He likes to get pedicures.

He wore a lot of dresses as a child; Grandma always wanted a girl.

And last but not least…

I have on more than one occasion caught him checking out a dude's butt.

Perhaps I'm exaggerating and maybe he's only metro or something, but I don't think so. It's a pretty easy thing to tell. Of course I like to tease him about his gayness often in loving fun, and his sharp look of 'shut the hell up Hermione' is always dutifully ignored. However, as fun as my father's guy love can be at times it can also get really annoying. One such time is now.

You see, when planning two pubescent boy's birthday party it is not the time to go girly with the decorations.

Now, please bear with me as I give you even more information that will set this situation in better light. As Harry mentioned earlier, my father, brothers, and I moved down after the divorce from Detroit towards the end of my junior year. This was done in a spur of the moment fit of madness by my father. He said it was so we would be closer to our elderly grandparents and 'wouldn't it be nice to be able to visit family more often'. This reason was complete crap though because we still only see them for birthdays and Christmas unless I need a ride somewhere. To be honest I think my father just got tired of seeing all the places mom should be but wasn't every day. It got too sad, too lonely for him so we moved down South in hopes of starting anew.

I had never had many friends, but the twins had always had dozens. Not just acquaintances either, but true blown, talk to them everyday friends. They had also always been the closest to our mother. For some reason as soon as they were born my mother and I drifted apart. I don't blame them though; it was just a natural occurrence that in the end took away the sting of her departure from our lives.

Combine the divorce and the uprooting, and you have a whirlpool of emotions for the twins. I swear, now if they weren't talking construction with my dad (his only manly interest by the way) they were skulking in their room.

Today would be their first birthday since the move and because we knew the past year had been rough on them, dad and I were trying extra hard to make it special.

However because my dad is who he is, I was forced to stay in Publix for over an hour trying to convince the manager of the bakery that my father really ordered a racecar cake, not pink cupcakes. In the end I still had to pay for new (right) order out of my own pocket and wait around for an hour and a half as the cake was made. I chose a bench near the bakery as my place to steam. After a while of mumbling under my breath as other patrons gave me wary looks, I decided to stop looking like a loony and let my anger be known to more than just the random passer bys.

"Dad." I said tersely into the phone after he picked up.

"What is it Hermione? Have you gotten the cupcakes yet?" he asked

"Dad, why did you order pink cupcakes? Dylan and Josh aren't little girls, they are 12 year old boys turing 13."

"Do 12 year old boys not like pink now or something?" Internally I sighed. It's hard to be mad at a guy as clueless as my father.

"No Dad. And they never have."

"What are you talking about Hermione; I always loved pink as a child." As I said, a strong love for pink. And he claims he isn't gay.

"Dad you aren't the twins."

"Well what do they like?"

"Racecars, video games, and fart jokes Dad. That's pretty much it."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"Hmm…change the order to a racecar cake then!" he said as if it was the most ingenious breakthrough he had ever made. At this point I didn't have the heart to tell him I already had.

"Sure Dad, sounds like a great idea." At least this means I would probably get my money back from him.

"Okay, well disaster adverted then, huh? Well love you kid, see you in a few hours to help set up."

"Sure thing." I said, "I'll be back around 3." if no other problems pop up, I added silently. Dad really did want to make this nice for the twins, he just didn't really know how.

"Oh! And pick up the balloons I called into Publix too."

"Sure thing. Love you." And with that, we said our goodbyes and hung up.

10 minutes later I was back at my bench with a dozen hot pink balloons.

To add to this terrible day, I had to make small talk with my grandparents as they drove me home. Like I said before, I don't have a license.

This forces me to bum rides off of my family or random friends. It's not like I'm lazy and just don't feel like driving myself places either. In fact I would love to not be a burden on everyone. There's just one problem with that though; I nearly kill myself every time I get behind the wheel. Despite all the teaching my father and various family members have tried to give me I still just can't seem to get it right. With hand-eye coordination as bad as mine, I'll probably never get my license. It won't be for lack of trying though as I have already failed the test five times. And even if I did manage to pass, I have had so many near death experiences driving that no one would dare trust me enough to let me on the road by myself.

It's because of this that I had to listen to my grandmother's overused fairy stories for twenty minutes completely surrounded by pink balloons as my grandfather complained about today's youth under his breath.

Despite everything the party was shaping up to be an awesome success. As soon as I had gotten home I hid the balloons in my room and brought out at few of my game systems for when the guests got tired of playing in the pool outside. It was still fairly warm outside even though it was October, so they could be in the pool without feeling as if they were about to freeze to death at any moment.

Southern weather patterns continue to amaze me.

My grandmother unfortunately had changed into her fairy costume for the party and refused to change back into normal clothes, giving the guests something to chuckle at every time she happened to pass by.

As I have already mentioned my grandmother's not so secret obsession several times, I feel as if I should better explain so you're not just in constant confusion. When my grandmother was very young, her mother told her stories about garden fairies every night before she went to sleep. When her mother died, those stories became my grandmother's last connection to her. From that day forward she vowed to find a fairy in honor of her mother, and even spent a whole summer outside in the garden searching one year. Eventually as she grew older she realized of course that fairies weren't real but were in fact merely bedtime stories. That didn't stop her obsession with their lore though, which she continues to tell to anyone who happens to be around to listen (willingly or not). Even in her old age she continues to pay homage to their legacy by having her entire house covered with fairy themed decoupage.

Yes, that includes the bathroom. And yes, it's pretty creepy to have a fairy staring you in the face as you pee.

My grandfather in return dutifully accepted his wife's odd habits, just as she accepted his coin collecting hobby. Even after fifty years, they're still sweet to each other time and make a wonderful, cute old couple. Though I don't know how my grandfather deals with it sometimes because I get goose bumps after only a few minutes of being in their house. Maybe he's just learned to ignore it, or maybe it's the power of love, but either way, I applaud his effort.

So far everyone else was acting normal and even my father was playing nice, letting the kids have their fun. The twins were ecstatic and judging from the large amount of guests, were well on their way to having the huge following they had in Detroit. Watching a bunch young teenage boys run around, acting crazy wasn't really that fun but it was nice to see the twins acting like kids again, something they hadn't done since the divorce. Plus, some of the boys were extremely nerdy (in an extremely awesome way) and it was funny just to hear them talk about Pokémon and the like.

After the presents were passed out and the cake was served Dad announced that it was time for some entertainment.

'Oh please don't let it be anyone in an animal suit, Oh please don't let it be anyone in animal suit' I prayed silently and furiously. Last time the twins had a birthday, it had been exactly that and the twins and I had been mortified for weeks afterward.

I had noticed the small stage, set out far away from the pool, earlier in the day, but was too busy monitoring kids for signs of drowning to really pay it any mind. However, when dad indicated towards it, the stage became the center of my focus and of my dread.

I was taken back, when I saw not someone in an animal suit take the stage, but Harry himself picking up a violin. Apparently, either news of Harry's status as a one man social plague had yet to reach the parents of this small town, or my father was just too oblivious to notice. I'm guessing the later. Anyway, it was obvious that Harry was the after dinner entertainment, which brought a new sense of relief and dread to the mix. What if he was terrible? Would it mean that now even middle school kids had a license to mock him?

My fears were immediately put to rest when he began to play. I do not exaggerate when I say it was one of the most beautiful sounds I have ever heard. Under the many embellishments Harry had added, I could catch the tune of a song that had been playing non-stop on the radio the past month. He blew any talent the original artist had out of the water.

I looked to my father with pride shining through my face; he had actually done something right. He looked back at me as if to say 'Well of course I did, what did you think I would do, get pink cupcakes?'.

I couldn't help but to smile.

In the middle of the song, Harry broke off from the catchy tune and began his own one fit for any hardcore rock concert. Somehow, he made a head banging violin solo sound completely natural and effortless. It was raw, it was powerful, and it was and utterly completely awesome. Dylan and Josh began to do some strange kind of head banging/ thrashing wildling around dance to the music with all their friends joining in. As strange as it looked, it somehow fit perfectly with the music.

The music faded slowly and when Harry finally lowered his bow a roar of applause greeted him. The twins and their friends immediately rushed up to him, excitedly asking questions. From the light in all their eyes, I could tell that Harry had just replaced House M.D. as their number one hero.

"He's pretty good, huh?" my dad asked, walking up to me.

"He was great! How'd you make Harry agree to come?"

"I work with his cousin. I told him about the twins' birthday party coming up and he told me that Harry would be perfect for it. I offered him 30 bucks and here he is. How do you know Harry?"

"He's in a few of my classes." I said. I was still somewhat in shock. After a while, the crowd around Harry finally died down, and he started to pack up his gear. I watched as my father began talking with him as I did a half hearted job of making every kid got picked up. I was too anxious at the possibility of talking to Harry again after last Monday. Finally, every guest was gone and it was only my father, Harry, and I left outside (the boys were already up in their room worshipping the gifts they had gotten).

To further stall time, I cleaned all the used paper plates off the tables and made sure everything was in order on the patio. All gift paper was deposited in the trash can and every forgotten swim suit was hung up to dry for the twins to return on Monday.

After that, there was nothing left to do and gathering my courage, I walked over to where my father and Harry sat talking about various musical interments. My father had played in an armature glam band back in high school, which apparently made him an expert in all things musical.

"Hey, Dad." I said, "Everyone's gone now."

"Oh, really?" He asked looking around at the patio. He had been too deep into conversation to notice anything around him, which happens quite often. I can remember many times as a child trying to get his attention when something horrible had happened (like when our dog chewed up my favorite toy wand) and not being able to because he was speaking to some newly discovered best friend.

"Yup." I said, hoping that I wasn't intentionally lying and that some kid was still hid somewhere in the house or behind a bush. "And I already cleaned up, is there anything you need for me to do before I go to bed?"

"Ah yes, Harry here was just telling me that he didn't have a way home and since you two know each other I thought maybe you could drive."

"Dad," I said confused, "I don't have a license or a car and I almost wreck every time I'm behind the wheel." He couldn't have forgotten that after I almost ran into an tree could he? It didn't seem possible, but you never know with my dad.

"Yeah, but I'm really tired kiddo and a little more practice wouldn't kill you." he said ending his sentence with a yawn, "There won't be that many cars on the road anyway. Just take my truck. I'm sure Harry will make sure you stay safe, won't you Harry?"

To this Harry just nodded, looking down at table.

I couldn't believe that my father was actually going to let me drive without him in the truck with me. It took only a second to see behind his fake sleepy exterior to his real plot. He was trying to set me up with Harry! That sneaky bastard was willing to let me be involved in a fatal accident if it meant that I would have a date. There wasn't much I could do though without letting Harry on to his plan and making the situation even more awkward than it already was. Plus it would give me an opportunity to talk with him again and trying to explain myself, which was most defiantly a good thing.

So, I decided to let my father think his scheme was working, when in reality I was only using it to further my own agenda.

"Okay, sure. Where's the keys?" I asked enjoying the shock on my father's face. He had obviously come up with this plan either not thinking it through all the way, or not expecting me to agree. Now he was going to have to risk his truck coming back in pieces. Oh, how sweet revenge would be. He did eventually reach into his pockets though and hand me keys with one final warning: "Be sure to be CAREFUL."

"Don't worry Dad, I will." I said with a wicked smile, inwardly laughing at his gulp of pure fear. In a softer, shyer voice that was not at all put on for my father I address Harry, "Follow me, the truck's this way."

Harry picked up his violin case and walked with me down the path leading to the truck. An awkward silence passed between us. They seemed to be becoming our thing, as we had dozens pass between us already. We're both pretty awkward to begin with though so I don't know why it would be any different when we combined our efforts. I struggled to find a way to begin the conversation.

"So, I apologies if my Dad came on a little strong about the instruments thing back there. He really doesn't know all that much about music, but I think he enjoys making it seem like he does."

"It's fine. It was nice to talk to someone so enthusiastic." he said politely, letting no feelings show on his face.

We continued to walk in silence as the night brought with it a warm wind. To me it seemed that a certain fall magic came on the backs of the leave carried by the wind's current. I looked at the dark canopy of the sky, and wondered if my mother was enjoying this fall night under the same stars with some new man in some exotic place. Part of me hoped she was.

"Just to warn you in advance, what I said to my Dad was true; I'm a terrible driver, so if I accidently kill us both I'm sorry." At this Harry busted out laughing, and the tension was finally broken. I laughed with him and added, "You shouldn't be taking you're safety so lightly."

"I'm sure I can handle it."

"Oh really?" I asked teasingly.

"Yes, most defiantly." he replied.

"So if a bear wearing a tutu jumped out of the woods ready to eat us just now, how would you deal with it Mr. I-Can-Handle-It?"

"Well that depends, is it a female bear, or just a cross-dressing bear?"

"Let's go with female."

"Well, I would woo her with my violin and convince her that human's make awful night time snacks." Harry said with straight face.

"Ah, good plan."

"Yes, I thought so." By this time we had made it to the truck. I unlocked the doors and we both got in to our respective sides. Well, on my part it was more like _jumping _in as I am only 5 foot 1 on a good day and my father's truck stands a good foot and a half off the ground. My jumping caused Harry to laugh and offer is hand to me mockingly. I shoved it away.

"Don't laugh at me because I'm short you unnaturally tall person."

"It's not my fault I'm tall and you're so short."

To that I grumbled incoherently as I backed out the driveway. I would have run over the mailbox if Harry hadn't told me to stop at the last second.

"I see what you mean about being a terrible driver." he said.

"Oh shut up."

"Look, just take it slow; you try to go too fast. Just take it slow and think calmly."

"I don't want to crash."

"You won't if you just do what I say."

From then on out, Harry gave me step by step instructions as I drove, explaining the process better than any instructor or family member ever had.

In between instructions, we talked. He told me about his parents that didn't care about any of the things he loved. How they thought his ideas were sinful and wrong. How it felt to have ideals that went against the people he loved. And how as a child he wanted to be a rock star and play the bass, but his parents would only pay for violin lessons.

In return, I told him about my obsessed grandmother, my possibly gay father, and my totally nerdy awesome little brothers. I told him how it felt to miss a person you never really knew. And how I use to pretend to live the lives of the people around me. How I had once wanted to be a figure skater, but never had the talent.

We even talked about La Petit Prince from the week before:

"Wasn't it just like an acid trip or something? Hey, why were you taking notes during it? Professor Lupin told us before that there wasn't going to be a quiz on it or anything."

"I don't know. I just liked it's insight I guess."

"Insight on what?"

"On friendship, on childhood. Even a little on death."

"What do you mean? I didn't catch any of that."

"You just have to look a little. It's like with the fox the prince tames. By taming the fox, he opened his heart up to him, and the fox became more than just any fox, he became special; he became a friend. And through that, yeah the little prince was vulnerable to heart break, but he also had something good to think about whenever he saw something that reminded him of the fox." he said, putting the entire movie in a new perspective.

"You're right," I said thinking about what he's said, "That is really insightful now that I think about it. I guess I let the colors distracted me."

We laughed.

And we talked about when I stood for him:

"I'm really sorry I lashed out at you." he said, "I guess I was just made at myself. I let everyone walk over me you know? I don't know why. Maybe I've gotten use to it is all. And then you didn't walk all over me like I expected and it scared me because it meant you held more power than a million Malfoy's combined."

"What power is that?"

"The power to become my friend and betray me. That would be worse than anything they could do. Make a turn left here, remember to signal." he said. I made the turn, then looked sideways at him.

"I wouldn't do that you know."

"I know." he said as he looked sideways at me, smiling at me softly.

Because of Harry's careful instructions, we made it to his house safely, with hardly any trouble in between. As I pulled up to his house I noticed that while it was a nice enough home, no lights were on.

"Are your parents out?" I asked, thinking maybe that was why.

"No, they just don't usually wait up for me." he replied. I remembered all the times I had come home from a night out with friends to see my dad pacing the hallway with a worry plastered all across his face. It made me sad that Harry didn't have parents like that, parents that actually cared if he came home. The sadness was a sweet one though, not like the one I usually have when I am around people. It wasn't pity, but more like the feeling you get when you meet a child who's never experienced Halloween. You want to show them how great of a holiday it is, or in this case how great it is to have someone who cares.

We sat in his drive way for awhile long, talking about all kinds of insignificant things. Such as the crazy girl in our French class who talks to herself or the way our Math teacher calls everyone in his class by their last name to make it known that while he may be a teacher, the military was his true calling and passion. It went on like this for 45 minutes, because neither one of us seemed ready to part with the other just yet. Our friendship was too new, too blissful to leave alone until Monday. Which reminds me…

"This might sound really cheesy for a girl my age to say, but are we friends now?" I asked, half knowing the answer, but still fearful that I had been wrong. Hopefully, I said it in such a way that he didn't see the hesitation, but only the joking manner we had been speaking with all night.

"I don't know, I've never had one."

"Come one, that's not true. Everyone has at least one friend at some part of their life."

"I'm not counting elementary school. Everyone is forced to be your friend then."

"You know what then? You don't have a choice anymore; I'm your friend. No- scratch that- I'm your _best_ friend." I said determined.

If he had never had a true friend then I would do everything in my power to make up for the past 17 years.

"I don't even get a choice?" he asked.

"No. And that's final."

"Well then I guess yes, to answer your question, I am your friend. It would be yes even if I had a choice."

"You didn't, but I still appreciate your opinion." I said smiling.

After that, it was time for him to finally go inside and for me to finally go home. I had stayed out two hours after my curfew, but I doubt my father would mind that much since he was the one who told me to drive Harry home in the first place. I would call him right after Harry got inside so he wouldn't think I was you know, dead in a ditch or anything.

"Are you going to be okay getting home without me telling you what to do all the time?" Harry asked, with little real concern in his voice.

"I'll be just fine thank you, now get out of my truck please."

"Tired of me already? Some best friend you are…"

"Oh shut it." I said through my laughs. Reluctantly, we said our goodbyes and Harry made it safely inside without having to woo any tutu wearing bear.

On the way home, I couldn't help but to think of our new friendship. It would be nice to have a person on my side. I person I could fight against the world with. And with that thought in mind, I made it home without crashing into anything thanks to Harry's teaching.

"So, I'm assuming that you and Harry had a good time then?" my father said when I walked through the door. He had been sitting in the armchair closest to the door, waiting to ambush me.

"Yeah it was pretty good. He taught me how to drive. Well, explained it to me better at least." I said, trying to keep my tone neutral. If I let him know that I didn't want to talk about it, then it would just make him want to talk about it more. Yeah, better to keep it neutral.

"Ah so that explains why my truck still has all four wheels. He's quite the musician huh? "

"He is." I said, trying desperately to get up stairs, before he could start asking more questions; I knew where this was going. He was blocking the way and it was getting harder to not let any frustration come through. I had always sucked at keeping it neutral

"So, do you like him?" Apparently, my father had decided he was not going to waste any more time on small talk.

"We're friends Dad, just friends. And before tonight we weren't even that." By this time I had my escape route planned out and was only waiting for him to let down his guard.

"Well then it's only a matter of-" There! I thought, spotting his weak point. I dashed under his arm and quickly my way up the stairs before he had time to say anything else. "What? I was just saying!" I heard him call up the stairs.

It was obvious that I was going to have to fight for my right to sleep though, when Dylan and Josh's two identical brown haired heads popped out of their room.

"Dad says you have a boyfriend. Says it's the guy that played at our party." they started in unison. God, I hated when they did that. It was cute when they were little, but at 13 it was just plain creepy.

They had made it a game between them a long time ago to see how long they could keep talking in unison up. They're record is three whole weeks of creepy twin-ness which was set over this past summer, and they are forever on an unstoppable quest to break that record. However, they've only been able to keep it up for a couple weeks now that school has started. That and I keep sabotaging them, but whatever. They are currently on day six of this attempt.

"Well he was wrong, Harry is not my boyfriend."

"We thought not. He's way too cool for you. Nate and Nick agree with us. " Nate and Nick were another pair of twins that went to my brother's school.

They weren't identical like Dylan and Josh were though. Actually as far as I could tell from what little I saw from the party tonight, they were exact opposite physically; Nate being tall and slim and Nick being short and squat. Both had a wicked sense of humor though and I could tell that my brother's weren't just friends with them because they were fellow twins but because they genuinely fun to be around. You be surprised to know how many times Dylan and Josh had become friends with someone because of the former; something about "Fellow twins forming a great alliance".

Either way, it was pretty funny how the guy no one wanted to deal with in high school, had suddenly become the bright shining hero for a whole horde of middle school students. I guess that's how it is with most things. Stuff that is considered cool in middle school, becomes instantly uncool when you entire high school. Taking reading for example. I remember when reading use to make a guy look mysterious and attractive in middle school. The bigger the book the better. Now it just makes him look like a nerd.

"Thanks for the confidence guys. Hey Dylan, did you finish your homework?"

"No, why?" he said. He instantly realized his mistake when Josh groaned and smacked him in the head.

"You idiot, how could you fall for that?" he said, "You messed up the record."

"I did not. If you were listening like you were suppose to this would have never happened!"

I smiled to myself and the sounds of their bickering followed me down the hall.

I shut my door. Ah, sweet silence.

**So... whatcha think? **

**think this was my favorite, to write at least, so far.**

**Please review with your opinions/ suggestions to make it better!**


	4. Chapter 4

**So this is the last chapter. I hope you've enjoyed the story!**

**Thank you everyone for the story alerts/ favorites and thanks to pawsrule for the review!**

**October 15, Sunday**

"I say that we paint the living room green, all those in favor say aye."

"Aye." said the twins and I in unison. The twins were once again attempting to break their record and were still mad at me for tricking them. They'll get over it eventually.

We were all back at Captain D's, but this time having a family meeting rather than a discussion about the construction and building of various skyscrapers. I'm not sure which I would rather be doing if I had the chance because while I knew nothing about skyscrapers, I wasn't fascinated by interior decorating either. I had taken to just saying 'aye' to any topic my father brought to the table.

To pass the time as I pretended to listen, I looked around at the people in the restaurant. It was a big no-no because of my before mentioned knack for felling sorry for others as I felt sorry for myself, but what can I say? I'll never learn.

A few of the regulars were missing, such as the old woman with the bright yellow parka and her faithful daughter. I worried that maybe something had happened, and quickly continued my scan of the room. The fat man was back, but without any grease stains on his shirt this time. There was a woman sitting across from him. She was equally large, but had a very pretty face. I could only assume they were on a date and silently rooted for them in my head. The children that had mocked him a few weeks ago weren't nowhere in sight and I was glad he could have his date in peace and quiet. There was a new kid to the scene as well. She sat far in the back wearing all black as she scribbled hastily in the notebook in front of her. I wondered what she was working on. Homework? A short story? A poem perhaps?

"Hermione? What's your vote?" I dragged my eyes away from the girl and focused on my father. Crap, I had no idea what we were voting on.

"Present." I said, not wanting to vote 'aye' or 'nay' in case it was something I really did what to have happen or something I really didn't (such as having the kitchen painted pink). My father looked a little disgruntled over my answer, but the twins looked extremely relieved. The chance's that the proposition had involved painting the kitchen pink greatly increased.

"It looks like that's all we needed to vote on. Do you guys have anything to add?" my father asked us. The twins pulled out few sheets of paper from their bags, and began to list their concerns in alphabetical order. 'This is going to take a while.' I thought and imminently went back to looking around the room. The girl in the back had packed up and left without me noticing. 'I guess I'll never know what she was writing' I thought.

Just has my brothers reached the 'G' section of their concerns, Harry walked in the door. Once again, he had become my salvation.

"Hey guys," I said while the twins glared at me for interrupting, "I'm going to talk to Harry, is that okay?"

"Oh sure Hermione. Just be sure to check in after awhile." And with dad's approval, I left the table and snuck beside Harry in line. I know my father only let me go as part of his plan to get me a date, but if it meant I didn't have to stick around for the rest of the family meeting then I was willing to let him think what he wanted to about me and Harry. But really, couldn't we just be friends for a while before people started pushing us as a couple?

I didn't say a word until Harry had made his order.

"You know," I said, "I hate fish. Don't know how you can stand them." Harry was startled my closeness and almost tripped over from surprise when I spoke. At his flailing to retain balance, I couldn't help but to double over in laughter. The employees behind the counter gave us a strange look, but who cares what they think?

One of the more irritable looking one's told us to go sit down, which we did after we had both collected ourselves as well as Harry's food.

"So why do you hate fish so much?" Harry asked when we were seated at the same table where we had first talked a couple weeks ago.

"Not sure really. I just don't like the way it tastes. Plus one time when I was little I went fishing with my dad and caught this really big fish. I put it in a bucket and decided it would be my friend. I gave it a name and everything- Betty Sue. Later that night at dinner, I looked down and saw Betty Sue staring back at me on my plate." My mother had not known Betty Sue was my friend and had cooked her right up for dinner. At my story, Harry had to cover his mouth with his hand to keep from laughing.

"That's terrible." He said as straight faced as possible.

"It was. I could never look at fish the same way again." I said, "So what about you, any traumatic experiences in your past?"

"A few." he said, not elaborating.

"Like…?"

"Well when I was younger I use to play in this small children's orchestra. Anyway, for luck I would always put one of those little troll dolls in my pocket. On the day of this really big performance I realized that I had lost it. I looked all over but couldn't find the troll. It turns out that was under my bed the whole time, but any way I told my mom that I couldn't go on without it. She wouldn't let me back out though, and even though I felt sick I had to join the rest of the kids. It wasn't one song in before I was throwing up all over myself and everyone in front of me."

We laughed at his story, because even though it must have been mortifying at the time it was damn funny now.

"So do you still have it?" I asked after a little while.

"Still have what?" Harry asked distractedly. He was currently trying to get a rather large and floppy piece of fish from his plate to his mouth. Finally he had to bring his head down enough to slurp it in. Why he just didn't use a fork I do know. Perhaps he liked making a game of his meal.

"The troll doll you use to carry around. Do you still have it?" The idea of a little Harry with a crazy haired troll doll was rather cute.

Harry's face flushed when he realized what my question was "No." he said, but from the way he wouldn't look me in the eye and the way his cheeks went red it was obvious he really meant 'Yes.'

"Do you still carry it around in your pocket then?" I asked. This time Harry didn't even try to lie and merely reached in his pocket at pulled out a troll doll with neon green hair. He held it out to me like a child would guiltily give back a stole toy to their mother.

"Aw, now that's adorable."

"Shut it.

We each have a place that we hate above all others. That we dread and shrink away from. It's where we feel the most out of touch with the world, the most isolated and alone. Usually that place will always bring out those same feelings. You can come back to it years later and still feel the same. But sometimes, just sometimes, that place can become something else entirely. You can go there and not feel so anxious. Maybe it's because the thing that you hated has long gone, or so much time has passed that it doesn't even matter anymore, or maybe it's because of a friend you met there.

Either way, the place that you dreaded becomes the place that you don't. The place that you dreaded becomes the place that you can actually look forward to visiting.

It's a silly sense of pride that comes with that realization.

**La fin**

**How was my first try? Do I suck? Do I need to give up writing forever?**

**So I actually do have ideas for more story but from Draco's point of view. If you'd like review and I'll sent you it.**


	5. Authors Note

Hey! No, this is not a new chapter but only a thank you to everyone that reviewed/favorite/alerted my story or me.

In particular I would like to thank **annarky92** for sending me a private message so sweet that it had me smiling the whole day.

The authors note is mainly for her because I had no other way to reply and didn't want her to think I hadn't read her kind message xD

Anyway, thank you all for making a first timer feel like she's not a total idiot.

While to others it might not seem like a big deal, to me it means the world.


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